


Murder My Millionaire

by BritishIsles



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2840822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BritishIsles/pseuds/BritishIsles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jane and Maura go undercover at Christmas. Love, everybody wants it but not everyone can get it. But what about Maura and Jane?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Adoring Fan

Chapter 1 – The Adoring Fan

“Can you turn that down Ma, I’m trying to sleep,” Jane Rizzoli stumbled into the living room having poured herself a coffee. It was early evening. She glanced at the TV programme her mother was glued to. “How can you watch that garbage?”

          “It’s very entertaining,” her mother responded. “ _Make Mine A Millionaire_ isa great way to meet the right person without going to all those sleazy bars. You can meet a better class of person using the matchmaker’s service. If Jacki and her team choose you, then you get to go on a date with a millionaire,” the newly divorced Angela was saying. “She does such a good job, although she is pretty mean everyone.”

          Jane looked at the screen. “That’s because she is mean and nasty. In a past life she set up Cleopatra and her asp.”

          “Jane,” Angela reprimanded. “She’s just making sure the people who meet her millionaires aren’t gold diggers or mentally unbalanced.”

          “That would rule her out of her own show.”

          “She’s here in Boston, setting up our own city’s millionaires with matches.” Angela Rizzoli said without taking her eyes off the screen. “I want to see how she gets people together. I may apply myself.”

          “I can save you the indignity of being abused by that woman,” Jane glanced at the host, Jacki. She was a woman with everything dyed, tucked, lifted, nipped, botoxed and corseted. “Here’s how she does it. She takes a millionaire who’s had a charisma bypass and has the social skills of a chimp. She takes a handful of good-looking girls and guys who fancy a life on easy street and she puts them together. Socially inept, narcissistic millionaire selects a human being as he or she would a pair of shoes and voila a match made in hell. Togetherness is usually until sex or the first date, whichever comes first, and then it’s over.”

          “Rich people are too busy to find a date and need her expert advice.” Angela defended the show.

          “They’re not too busy they’re too lazy. If money does anything it buys time. They should try talking to people instead of flashing their money. All having money does is accentuate what you already are.” Jane sighed. “Even a millionaire has time to relax which is more than I do.”

          At that moment Maura came through the front door. She looked concerned. “Didn’t you get my text? Why aren’t you dressed?”

          Jane shrugged and tugged at her sweatshirt and pyjama bottoms; it was how she slept. “Do I look like I was expecting you?”

          “Oh Angela, you’re watching _Make Mine a Millionaire,_ how fortuitous.”

          Jane Rolled her eyes, “not you too? It’s alliteration gone mad. There you’ve just made me us an ‘m’ word.”

          “That’s who I texted you about.” She pointed at Jacki. “She’s being targeted and thinks someone is going to try to murder her or a millionaire.”

          “Now you’re using ‘m’ words. It doesn’t surprise me that she driven someone to want to kill. I mean, she’s short-tempered opinionated, has a big mouth and is delusional.”

          “Jane, that could be you,” Angela said calmly.

          “Thanks, Ma.”

          “I just meant I can see you in some of her behaviour. You are short-tempered and opinionated.”

          “So, what’s the deal?” Jane asked Maura. “Talk in here while I shower.” She began to head for her bedroom.

          “No time for a shower. I tried to call you several times. I even texted you half an hour ago and said to be ready.”

          “Yeah, my cell phone was off. I needed the sleep. I don’t feel great. When do I get time off to relax?”

          “One more week to go and it’s Christmas. I love the holidays,” Angela was saying as she sipped her eggnog. “Relax then.”

          Maura looked at the flashing message on the answer machine. “I did call your home phone,” she repeated.

          “Oh yeah,” Angela said. “Maura called and left a message.” She shoved a cinnamon dusted marshmallow into her mouth.

          “You’re not too young for an old folk’s home,” Jane yelled as she headed to her bedroom.

          “Hey, I nearly had one of her sauces named after me!” She turned to Maura. “The millionaire lady, Jacki,” she gestured towards the TV. “She’s making her own ‘sexy sauces’ and held a competition to see if anyone could come up with a good slogan for her chilli sauce.”

          “Oh Angela, did you win the competition?” Maura beamed.

          “I didn’t win, Maura, but the judges said that my idea was very good and original. I wanted the slogan to be _Watch Me Burn_. It brings a certain image to mind for hot sauce, don’t you think?”

          Maura looked a little shocked.

          “Maura,” Jane ginned as she stood in the doorway. “Leave while you have the strength. Her other idea was _Chilli Out While I get the flammable liquid and matches_ but the advertisers didn’t want any more Eminem and Rihanna overtones.”

            Maura giggled.

          “I can’t leave the house without showering,” Jane said and disappeared into the bathroom.

          Maura sat on the bed and waited for Jane. “That was quick.”

          “Yeah, well you made it all sound urgent,” she emerged from the bathroom fully dressed and sat on the bed. She pulled on a sock. “So what’s up?”

          “Given that you don’t like Jacki Truelove you won’t like our assignment.”

          Jane grinned. “Jacki Truelove? You’re kidding me.”

          Maura nodded. “No that’s her name. She did change it from her birth name of Belinda Barbara Baggin.”

          “Obviously she didn’t want to help lonely millionaire hobbits.”

          “Sorry?”

          Jane looked at Maura, askance. “Didn’t you see _Lord of the Rings_? Were you on the planet when the movies came out? What about the movie, _The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey?_ ” She shook her head, “I can understand why that one passed you by. The movie was so dull I think he should have stayed at home. _”_

          Maura shook her head. “I don’t watch many movies. I think the last one I liked was...”

          “Wait, let me think,” Jane pretended to think. “It was _50 Ways to Use a Scalpel_ staring Dr Frankenstein.” She pulled on her ankle boots and grabbed her badge and gun.

          “I was actually going to say, _V for Vendetta_ which has a very sympathetic portrait of a lesbian and her lover and the tragedy that befell them under a totalitarian regime.” Maura looked offended. “You can be quite bad-mannered sometimes.”

          “Sorry, Maura,” Jane said sheepishly. “It’s Ma, she drives me nuts.”

          Maura got annoyed. “It’s not your mother, stop blaming her. It’s you and you can be mean at times.” She headed into the living room.

          “Maura, I’m sorry,” Jane said chasing after her. She grabbed Maura’s arm. “I am sorry, and you’re right it’s me. I am really sorry. I can’t blame Ma for everything.”

            “What did I do now?” Angela asked pouring herself another eggnog.

          “You’ve done nothing Mrs Rizzoli,” Maura said glaring at Jane.

          “We’ve gotta go, Ma.” Jane gave her mother a peck on the cheek. “Go easy on the eggnog or you’ll start spitting feathers.”

          “Eh?” Angela quizzed before laughing. “Oh, I get it, egg, feathers.” She paused. “Where does the nog fit in?”

          “It’s where I’d like to be,” Jane said as she grabbed her coat and headed out of the door. “In the land of nog.”

          Maura smiled. “Very good word association.”

          “Thank you Dr Isles. Now please explain why I am being dragged out on a cold December evening to meet Tacki Truelove and her performing monkeys.”  
          “Jane, where is your festive spirit?”

          “I would like to be drinking it.”

          “Here’s what I know,” Maura said as she drove them downtown. “Jacki Truelove has received a death threat. Whoever it is doing the threatening has said they will kill either Jacki or one of her millionaires between now and Christmas Day. We have one week.”

          “So what does that have to do with us? We deal with murders not anticipated murders or every irritating relative over the holidays would have an armed guard.”

          “Half of the precinct is out with flu so we have been asked to go undercover and pretend to be potential dates looking for a millionaire. It could be dangerous.”

          Jane frowned. “For who? No! Tell Homicide Lieutenant Detective Cavanaugh to get someone else to be the sitting duck, or Christmas turkey in sexy sauce. It’s undignified and I won’t do it.”

          “When I say we have been asked I mean ordered,” Maura corrected. “I know you dislike Jacki so wanted to suggest it was optional in the hope that you would come along.”

          “Why can’t I have the flu when it would be useful?”

          “It is not a good thing to have the flu. Whilst it can last for a week it can mutate into something life threatening, like Spanish Flu or Bird Flu,” Maura said.“It is an RNA virus which is one that uses ribonucleic acid to store the genetic information as opposed to DNA.”

          “Wow, that’s comforting. What do you want of Christmas?” Jane said avoiding one of Maura’s mini science lectures.

          Maura smiled. “I’ll let you know.” She turned into a studio parking lot. “I already have something for you.”

          Jane’s eyes lit up. “What?”

          “You’ll have to wait and see. We’re here,” she said pulling up. 


	2. Meeting The Matchmaker

They were led down a corridor to the star’s dressing room. They knew it was the star’s room because there was a massive star on the door. The minion knocked and waited.

          “Yeah?” A voice from within yelled.

          He opened the door. “Jacki it’s the police,” he said and ushered them in.

          Jacki swivelled around on her chair. The make-up artist was finishing applying the last of the mascara. Jacki fluttered her eyelashes and smiled.  

          “Thanks Tina,” she said as the make-up artist packed her things away and left without looking at Jane or Maura.

          As Tina was closing the door a tall muscular man entered. He went to kiss Jacki on the lips. “Dick!” she wailed. “I’ve just got my lips glossed.”

          He refrained from trying to kiss her.              

          “We won’t take up to much of your time,” Jane began. “Could we talk to you in private?” She glanced at the guy.

          “Oh, don’t worry about Dick, he knows all about the death threat.”

          Jane nodded. “My name is detective Jane Rizzoli and this is Dr Maura Isles. We understand you have been threatened.”

          “I just said that.” She reached into her purse on the table and retrieved several pieces of paper. She handed them to Jane who read them out.

          “’I will kill you, bitch;’ ‘I will kill one of your millionaire assholes;’ ‘Prepare to die, bitch; ‘I will kill you or one of your millionaire assholes by Christmas Day, bitch.’” Jane looked at Jacki as she handed the notes to Maura. “Someone doesn’t like you but likes the bitch word.”

          “No shit,” Jacki said sarcastically.

            “They are all letters cut out of magazines,” Maura noted, thinking aloud.

          “Really? You should be a detective,” Jacki said scathingly.

          “I’m the detective,” Jane said as she clenched her jaw but Maura looked at her and she calmed down.

          “What I meant was that we may be able to analyze the glue used and might get a trace of DNA from it. I apologise I didn’t explain myself correctly.” Maura was the epitome of calm.

          “Are you British?” Jacki asked in a tone of disgust.

          “My mother is British.”

          “How did you get these letters,” Jane asked deflecting Jacki’s further observations.

          “No particular place, they turn up everywhere. The last one was on this table when I got back from yesterday’s selection process. The one before that was on my car windshield under the wiper. The one before that on my hotel bed when I got back from having a shower―that was creepy.  We’ve set up cameras in here and one in the corridor but they cut out yesterday. Someone had poured water into them. We’ve just replaced the lot.”

          Jane looked around and spotted a small camera. “I’ll run background checks on all of your employees if you give me names.”

          “A job for a Dick I believe,” she said looking at him. “I expect you to be on top of this and do it right, no slacking.”

          “The sooner the better, Dick” Jane said.

          “Look,” Jacki stood up and adjusted her tight skirt. “I have a business to run. This is the build up to a show that will air on Christmas Day, prime-time and I cannot allow some fuck to ruin my day.” She sobbed.

          “Someone is familiar with your routine. It is the police department’s opinion that you need protection and we are here to protect you.” Jane wasn’t convinced that the sobbing was genuine.

“You two, protect me?”

Jane thought she heard Jacki snigger. “Our boss seems to think our working undercover is a good idea. We may be able to solve your problem before the Christmas show. You include us in your selection process and we will look out for anything suspicious. Once you’ve selected the girls or guys for the more intimate mingling session we can research their backgrounds.”

          “Yeah, good idea,” Dick interjected. Jacki stared at him. “Well it is, especially as you’re doing a Christmas special with costumes and everything.”

          Jacki nodded. “You’re right.” She turned to Jane and Maura. “It’s always good to have Dick around.”

          Maura smiled nervously.

            Jacki noticed. “Don’t worry about it. Dick is used to dick jokes aren’t you? Yes, he is.” She spoke for him. “Okay, here’s the deal ladies,” Jacki was dry eyed and steely. “I’m doing a Christmas Special. The theme is...”

          “Christmas,” Dick interrupted.

          “Dick, stop fucking finishing my sentences!” she slapped her thigh. “I’ve told you before don’t fucking...”

            “Finish your sentences, I know, sorry.”

            Jacki looked up in exasperation. “Dick, fuck off. Go and help Jeremy with the CVs.”

          He left looking like a kicked puppy.

          “Seriously,” she huffed. “He’s good in bed but that’s it. Virgo’s are the best in bed did you know that? Great sex.”

          She looked Jane over. “What sign are you?”

          “Virgo.”

          “Oh, me too. Virgo’s are hot to trot,” she said modestly and turned to Maura. “And you?”

          “Leo,” Maura always told the truth.

          “Gee, Leo, eh? Always like to be on top and too prolonged for my liking. Nothing beats a quick hottie up the tottie.”

          Jane grimaced.

          “I do hope your millionaires won’t be expecting us to have sex. I don’t do that sort of thing until at least the twelfth date,” Maura was saying.

          Jacki looked at Maura unable to tell whether she was being made a fool of or not. “Anyway,” she decided to ignore Maura. “I am working on a theme this year.” She raised her hands and looked into the middle distance as her dream came into view. “’A Christmas Carol,’” she said. “I will have my chosen guys and girls dressed in the attire of Christmas past, Christmas present and Christmas future. It will be awesome. They will look fabulous for the millionaires. The first, Christmas past, is Victorian.”

          Jane glanced at Maura and pulled a face. “I can guess who Scrooge is,” she whispered and looked at Jacki.

          “Okay,” Jacki clapped her hands together. “Here’s what I will do. I will chose one of you for the first selection process. If we don’t catch the fuck who’s sending these notes by ‘Christmas future’ you’ll both have to be in the line up together and we’ll have to offer a place to that ass wipe plastic surgeonmillionaire who likes threesomes. I swear to God that man would put three tits on a woman if he thought he could get away with it.

          “It would be aesthetically jarring, not to mention dangerous and no one would ever make an ergonomically viable bra.”

          Jacki gave Maura a suspicious look, not knowing if she was being made a fool of or not, again. “My God,” she shook her head in disgust. “A celebrity friend of mine went to him for a vaginal lift and y’know what, when she woke up she had labia that were so engorged whenever she sat on a chair there was suction. She became a fucking limpet on her own furniture. Can you believe that?”

          “That is not physically possible,” Maura said. “Your friend was exaggerating.”

            Jane spoke as she coughed. “Leave it.”

          “The first selection process is in about an hour.” Jacki looked Jane up and down and suddenly turned to Maura. “I think you, Mary will go first.”

          “Maura,” Maura explained.

          “Yeah, whatever.” Jacki suddenly grabbed Maura’s breasts, hoisted them up and shoved them together.

            “You don’t get many of those to the pound,” Jacki joked. “Nice girls, Mary.”

            “Hey, I had to ask first,” Jane complained.

          Jacki frowned. “Keep calm. I’m a professional and women feel comfortable with me grabbing their boobs. No silicone from the feel of them,” she said to Maura. “The first millionaire is a lesbian. You’ve probably heard of her, Finn de Siècle? She made her fortune selling Victorian bordello bedrooms to the stars.” She looked at Maura, her mind working overtime. “She’s thirty, dark and good-looking and her favourite celebrity crush is one of the women on that TV series, _Where the Sun Don’t Shine._ I only watched it because I thought it was a sex programme. How goddamn disappointed do you think I was to find out that I was watching a police series set in Norway?”

          “Very disappointed.” Maura sympathised.

          “I had my friends round for wine, dips and a session on the vibrators and then this fucking ugly guy fills the screen. I mean, who wants to see an old foreign guy with a face that has more wrinkles than his scrotum? Really, no, yuck. And all that goddamn snow put me right off my dip I can tell you.” She waved the thought away. “Anyway, you’re a dead ringer for the central female character,” she paused, trying to recall a name. “Ah, yeah, Noelle White.” She pulled a face. “Finn also loves redheaded Brits, God only knows why.”

          “Taste?” Jane quipped.

          “You should tell her to go to the town of Breda in Holland during the first weekend of September. The whole place is dedicated to redheads and redophiles. It’s a fabulous experience,” Maura explained, “and it might cure you of your prejudice and idiocy.” She whispered to Jacki. “I feel I should warn you that I have never met a redhead who liked being called ginger. It’s the six letter word, like the ‘n’ word and should be avoided.”

          “What?” Jacki said. “You just stick to what you know and let me tell you that you know nothing about love, I do.”

          “Really?” Jane smiled. “And you do? Are you married? I see you’re wear a ring.”

          “Nearly married. This is an IOU ring. We’re monogamous so we can have sex. It’s one of the rules of my club and he agrees that he owes me a wedding.”

          “How romantic and practical,” Maura said sincerely. “The actress who plays Noelle White is very pretty,” she added.

          “In a Christmas white kind of way,” Jane joked. “She is sexy, though,” she smiled at Maura.

            “Hey, don’t get carried away,” Jacki snapped. “I have three rules in my club. Number one, when you meet my millionaire no more than five drinks to steady the nerves,” she looked at Jane. “I’ll admit that some of them are ugly monsters so try not to stare.” She turned back to Maura. “Number two, you’re not allowed to yawn on the intimate date if they choose you. And three, no sex before...” she held out her hands.

          Maura frowned. “A prenuptial agreement?”

            “Do you watch my show?” She glanced from Maura to Jane. “Do either of you watch my show?”

          “Only when the nurse leaves the TV remote on a shelf and I’m in a full body cast,” Jane said.

            “I do watch it but I’m usually writing reports on the cause of death,” Maura admitted.

          “What kind of doctor are you?”

          “A pathologist.”

          Jacki stepped away from her. “That’s creepy city. You work with dead people?”

          “I work on dead people actually. People always say that without thinking. It’s understandable, but grammatically flawed and factually incorrect.”

          “She works with living people,” Jane corrected. “She’s boring that way.”

          “Whatever,” Jacki said. “Okay, we need to get you dressed up.”

          “Into what?” Maura asked. “I do so love heels.”

            Jacki went to the door and yelled for her assistant. A frightened young woman turned up. “Get Mary here a beautiful Victorian dress, make it blue as Finn de Siècle likes blue-eyed redheads―I hate them, sarcastic firecrackers.”

          “I bet you hate Irish people too,” Jane said.

          “What kind of crap is that?” Jacki said. “I am not racist. Nor am I homophobic and I’ll admit I am attracted to some women. You don’t just pull sexuality out of your ass; you are what you are. I hate sexism and the assholes who see someone as nothing more than walking genitals. A relationship is not all sex, sex, sex, it’s more than just physical. Get to know the person emotionally and make a connection and then you’ll find love. I am deep and thoughtful, my therapist says so.” She meant it. “My real problem is with overweight people, boring people and poor people. And before you say I’m a bad person let me just say all of these folks have brought it on themselves―all of them. You go on a donut dietyou get fat; genetics my ass. If you don’t listen to others you’re a bore and if you’re poor it’s because you’re fucking lazy. Part of my service is to be honest with people. They deserve quality and I am tough love at its best. “

            “Did a gorgeous redheaded man, tall and rugged, like Josh Homme, refuse to date you when you were in college?” Maura turned to Jane and whispered. “He’s a musician―Queens of the Stone Age―great band.” They could tell from Jacki’s expression that Maura had hit a nerve. “Were you an overweight teen? It happens to lots of us. Did you come from an impoverished background? Jane did and it’s nothing to be ashamed of it means you have to try harder, that’s all. It does not reflect on intelligence or character.”

            “Thank you for telling the world about my childhood.” Jane scowled at Maura. “Poor people,” Jane said indignantly, “are poor because of their awful circumstances. You need money to do anything and if you haven’t got it you’re screwed. I’d like to see you work your way out of a trailer park where the only running water is coming down the walls. And overweight people usually have some kind of emotional disconnect. You are right, though, about boring people.”

          “No excuses. You I know I am right about them all,” Jacki insisted.

            “Let’s stick to our task,” Jane said, exhausted and holding herself back from gabbing a magazine, a pair of scissors and some glue.

          “Just don’t screw this up for me,” Jacki said nastily. “I will choose you, Mary and another four girls. Just answer the questions I shoot at you. Now I did mention that Finn de Siècle is a lesbian. ‘Butch in the streets, femme in the sheets,’” she laughed heartily. “God I love that, it’s such a radical newsaying.”

          “It’s Victorian,” Jane quipped.

          Jacki looked at Maura sincerely. “Now listen, Mary, I don’t care if you don’t like lesbians. For tonight you’re a lipstick lesbian, can you manage that?”

          Maura smirked. “I think I can manage that.”

          “Good, don’t let on that you prefer Dick.”

            “She’s just see what Dick can do and it’s not too impressive,” Jane said.

          “Where will you be?” Maura asked Jane.

          “She’ll be one of the judges,” Jacki interrupted. “She can pretend to be one of my staff. That way she can see if anyone in the running is a potential killer. She can also see just what kind of crap I have to deal with these days.”

          “That’s a bit insulting to those who come to you for a date.” Jane said. “And what you just said about your clients, the millionaires was obnoxious, but true,” she added.

            “Don’t get too comfortable, Risotto. You’ll be in the next round later tonight,” Jacki insisted. “We’ve got another two millionaires to set up. I’m doing all the selections tonight as we’ve the match making to do and then intimate date itself so we’ll be busy right up to Christmas Eve.”

          “And who will I be lucky enough to get?” Jane asked.

          Jacki smiled. “You’re in luck you get the guy.”

          “Wow, I am lucky.”

            “This millionaire is insecure, superficial and turns my stomach but we all deserve love. He’s a gynaecologist to the stars.”

          “All of them?”

          Jacki glowered at her. “Just the women. He loves all kinds of women, any shape or size,” she guffawed and then stopped suddenly. “You’re skinny and I’ve seen bigger mosquito bites than your tits but we’ll enhance your cleavage with a padded bra. You’ll have to do.”

          Jane fumed. “I am in proportion to my height.”

          “You’re perfect,” Maura said encouragingly.

          “Honey, you’re underweight like me,” Jacki sucked in herstomach. “I’ve had a boob job and you should think about it, too. I know a plastic surgeon in Beverley Hills who will inject your tits with salt water to enlarge them for a while. The water eventually goes but it leaves a tide mark,” she guffawed. “It’ll give you an idea about how big you want your girls before going under the knife.”

          “Don’t,” Maura insisted. “It’s not safe.”

            “You surprise me,” Jane said.

          “Giselle,” Jacki said to her minion. “Take Mary here and get her ready for the show. Can you do something with her in half an hour?”

          Giselle looked Maura over seriously. “I think we can do something with her. And we’ll find a corset that will fit.”

          Jacki nodded. “Sharon, get the fuck in here!”

            Sharon stood behind her. She turned and was startled. “What the fuck! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

          “Sorry.”

          Jacki pawed at Maura again. “Get me that blue Victorian number. The dress will match the colour of her eyes. I’ll see you in fifteen,” she said to them. “And Sharon that fucked up fat donut boyfriend better not be skulking around in the wings. I told you to get rid of him. He’s useless and adds nothing to the ambience of my show.”

          With that Sharon and Giselle left.

          Maura turned to Jane. “I don’t have blue eyes.”

          “No, you don’t,” Jane said looking at the door as it closed. “You aren’t called Mary or Marty or Mandy either but reality in the world of Jacki is as difficult to pin down as the flavour of a Truelove sexy sauce.”


	3. The Millionaire Matching Process

“If you would like to follow me I’ll get you a clipboard and the details of this selection of women.” Sharon said.

       “Sure, thanks,” Jane followed her into the selection room with cameras in front and behind them.

      “Here are the names,” Sharon said.

      “Sit,” Jacki said tapping a stool next to her on the right. On her left was a handsome straight man and next to him was a short flamboyant gay man. To Jane’s right was a woman with green hair and facial piercings.

      “Okay, let’s get this show on the road. Bring in the first batch of girls. I can feel good energy in here tonight.”

       “Awesome,” said the gay man who looked like he was going to be sycophantic.

      The first five women came in dressed in Victorian garb. Maura was one of them and Jane thought she looked beautiful.

      “Oh yeah,” said the straight man salivating at the sight of Maura, “Very Pre-Raphaelite. You could be Lizzie Siddall or Fanny Cornforth aka Sara Cox.”

“Where they in _Le Reve_? I saw it in Las Vegas, it was so dreamlike.” The gay man commented.

      Jackie scowled at him. “Jeremy, they’re actually from the Victorian era. They were the hot models of their day for the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood.”

      “Yeah, I think I knew that,” Jeremy retreated to behind his clipboard.

      “So,” Jacki flipped through her CVs on her clipboard. “Which one is Georgia?” She looked up at the young woman raised her hand. “Oh pretty, and what do you do?”

      “I’m a student at Boston University studying the football team and stepaerobics.” She giggled.

      “Fabulous,” she turned to the men and nodded her approval. “Are you a lesbian?”

      “No.”

       “What the fuck?” she said to the straight man at her side. “I said lesbians only Tom, are you dumb or what?”

      “I think you’re in the wrong selection,” he said to the woman. “I think she got confused. It’s easy to do.”

      The young woman gave a high pitched squeal and waved her hands as if she had pompoms in them. “Oh, I’m always making mistakes. I’ll be back,” she said in deep voice like Arnold Schwarzenegger and giggled again.

      “Quality, Tom,” she said to the straight guy. “I said I wanted class not some goddamn air head with nothing between her legs but a fucking StairMaster. You’ve just go here Tom and you’re fucking it up already. Get with the game or you won’t get through the probation period. You’re lucky you’re good-looking or you’d be out.”

      “Sorry Jacki,” Tom said sincerely. “I will step up my game I promise. By the end of Christmas I’ll surprise you with what I am capable of doing.”

      “Yeah,” Jacki said dismissively. “And you,” she said to Jeremy. “Stop making yuck expressions when I mention women. We’re here, we’re near, get used to it or fuck off.”

      All the time Jane was scanning the room, carefully looking for any would-be assassin.

       Another girl was brought in as a replacement. She had tattoos and piercings. The green-haired girl perked up.

      “What do you think guys, is she right for Finn?”

      “Our client likes British accents,” he said. “Can you do an accent?”

      “Yes, I believe so, cheerio hoo and twaddle pup,” she said in a poor British accent.

      Jacki raised her eyes to the ceiling in irritation. “I can’t stand it! You sound like a goddamn owl.”

      The gay man knitted his eyebrows into a frown. “I say no, she sounds too much like Dick Van Dyke.”

      “God, how fitting, van dyke,” Jacki grinned.

      The green-haired girl winked at the new woman and gestured that she should wait outside for her.

       “Try me, luv,” said a tiny woman on the end of the line.

      Jacki and her minions zoomed in on her.

      “What the fuck are you?” Jacki asked.

      The woman was dressed in Victorian attire right down to the bonnet and the shawl.

      “Fuck me, it’s Mary Poppins ‘erself,” Jacki mocked.

      “That’s right, dearie. I am a British actress. I’ve come straight from a film set. We’re shooting a horror story, _Mary Poppins, the Laudanum Years;_ it’s ever so harrowing.”

       “Is she for real?” the gay man asked.

      “Yes, dearie, I am for real. I happen to be Julie Andrews’ stunt double. When she has to do a particularly difficult scene―dancing with penguins or riding on a merry-go-round―all drug induced hallucinations in the movie, I take over.”

      Tom shook his head.” It’s a no from me.”

       “It’s a no from me, too,” Jacki said. “My millionaire wants someone sexy not a London bag lady. Have you seen yourself? You look like a badly packed shopping bag.”

      “Bloody cheek,” the actress said. “At least I’m almost authentic, which more than I can say this lot is.” She gestured to those in her line up. “Not a real bleedin’ tit between ‘em.” She shoved her chest out. “See, real Eartha Kitts.”

      Maura looked at her ample cleavage. “I have ample secondary sexual characteristics. Jane likes them.” She gave Jane a sly smile.

      Jane mouthed a silent ‘yes.’

       Jacki froze. “Are you fucking kidding me? Security! Security!”

      Two burly security guards appeared and lifted the actress off the ground. She did look like Mary Poppins at that stage with her feet pointing sideways. She was struggling and cursing.

      “You should let me through, I am genuine cockney! I was born within the sound of Bow Bells.” She was kicking and struggling. “Put me down! I’ll show you yanks. You can’t treat me this way, I can do the Lambeth Walk.” They temporarily dropped her and she turned to face Jacki and pointedat her competitors. “What they got that I ain’t got, mink instead of beaver?”

       “Get her out of here, please.” The gay man went pale.

      “You, Truelove, you can kiss my aunt fanny. You got a fucking ugly boat race!”

      Jacki turned her head one way and then another. “Did anyone understand a thing that freak said?”

      Head shakes from her staff.

      “I believe she said you have a ‘fucking ugly face’. It is cockney rhyming slang, like Eartha Kitts – tits,” said a tall woman in the line-up, who had yet to be spoken to.

      “Are you British?” Jane asked.

       “Mostly French,” she said in a peculiarly American accent.

      “Say something to me in French.”

      “Montrez-moi l’argent.”

They seemed convinced.

      “Formidable. Tray bone. Honey, you’re through,” Jacki said. “Bring in the next lot.”

       “I think it’s pronounced ‘formi-DA-ble and ‘TRE bon,’” Jeremy said.

      “As Jean-Claude Van Damme would say, ‘shut ze FECK up,’” Jacki said in a French accent.

      “He’s Belgian,” said the woman with the green hair in a bored voice.

      Jane saw the green-haired woman reach into her purse and begin to pull out something that looked suspiciously like a gun.

      “Hey!” she dashed over and grabbed the purse. “What do we have here?” She pulled out a gun.

      “It’s a cigarette lighter, a novelty one,” the woman took it off Jane and pressed the trigger and a flame appeared at the end of the barrel. “What is this?” She looked at Jacki. “Am I under investigation for that night with the inflatable Santa, ‘cos it wasn’t my fault.”

      “No you’re not under investigation.” Jacki took a deep breath. “My colleague here is just being cautious you never know. There are lots of nut jobs around.”

      “Okay, let’s take five,” Jacki sighed.

      “Five more women?” Jeremy asked.

      “No,” Jacki sighed, again. “A break and if you don’t get it together you’ll be taking a break permanently. You’re new, too and I can always get replacements.”

      “You really should consider the Cockney sparrow,” Maura was saying. “I do think she brings a certain authenticity to the Victorian Christmas you’re trying to conjure up.”

      “She has a point,” the green-haired woman said.

      Jacki thought about it. “Okay, we’ll put her in the mingling section and hope she doesn’t start singing _Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious_.”

      “If she does you can always tell her to go fly a kite,” the gay man joked.

      “I like you more when you’re quiet,” Jacki commented.


	4. Any Clues?

“We don’t have one clue,” Jane slumped into her chair at the precinct. She shuffled the notes they had made on possible suspects but none had panned out as possible killers.

            “No suspects at all?” Jane’s brother, detective Frankie Rizzoli asked.

           “Not that we can pin these notes on.”

          At that moment Maura walked in. “There is no DNA on the notes and the glue is standard glue sold in art stores.”

          “So you got chosen to meet with Finn de Siècle tonight,” Janesaid in a slightly jealous voice. “What kind of a name is that?”

          “An end of the century sort of name,” Maura grinned.

          “Ha-ha Maura, good one,” Homicide Sergeant Detective Vince Korsak said but stopped smiling when he saw Jane expression.

          “You weren’t supposed to be chosen,” Jane complained. “You’re not a contestant.”

          “I know, but Jacki thought it would be a good idea.” Maura smirked. “I don’t see why not. After all the killer may try to attack Finn.”

          Jane raised her eyebrows, “Finn? Are we on first name terms?”

          “Can we get back to the case?” Korsak asked.

          “I’ve analysed the glue, nothing there but the paper is interesting,” Maura said and referred to her notes. “There are two types of paper being used. One is photographic and the other is medical.”

          “How do you know?” Frankie asked as he perched on Jane’s desk.

          “The photographic paper is Giclée; a neologism used by printmaker Jack Duganne. It is a particular paper used for fine art prints. It is primarily used by photographers who dabble in art and by artists and art galleries. Its name suggests that it will produce a high quality print but as this whole area is unregulated there is no official standard of quality. This was used on three of the letters.

          The remaining letters were stuck on standard paper. What is interesting is that the letters cut and pasted come from a medical journal.”

          “How do you know?” Korsak asked.

          Maura placed _Human Anatomy for the Connoisseur_ on Jane’s desk. “I subscribe. If you’ll note,” she handed around photocopies of the original letter. “The letters, t and p are damaged. It’s always been the way in the magazine despite my protests.”

          “You complained about two tiny letters?” Jane asked incredulously.

          Maura nodded. “It’s for the expert, Jane and I think it should be perfect.”

          Korsak grinned. “Interesting, do we know anyone who works in the medical field or as a photographer that Jacki has insulted?”

          Jane sighed. “That could take weeks. She’s insulted so many people on so many shows. I can’t be expected to watch every show without psychiatric help being on standby.”

          “Even if we could get you psychiatric help, it wouldn’t do any good because there are too many shows to watch in the limited time period we have available,” Maura said sensibly.

          “I think Jane was joking,” Frankie explained.

          “Don’t,’ Jane said in a tired voice. “Last night was a long abusive evening and it’s been a trying morning.”

          “We could take a shortcut,” Frankie said, thinking aloud.

          “Your mother?” Maura quizzed.

          “Ma,” Jane said to Frankie. “She loves Jacki’s show and is thinking of going on it.”

            “No, tell her no, it’s not a good idea, she’ll get insulted and it’ll make her cry,” Korsak said sympathetically. “That woman verbally abuses everyone but fit young men she’d like to bed.”

          “Maybe Frankie should take my place,” Jane suggested.

          Frankie moved towards the door. “No way am I getting caught by the millionaires.”

            “Relax, one of her rules is you have to date age appropriate people so the queen bee herself must be looking for someone like Sylvester Stallone,” Jane said.

          Frankie smiled. “Wow, I didn’t know she was that old.”

          “Yeah,” Jane said as they headed home. “They put Vaseline and cheesecloth on the lens to make Jacki look young. The older she gets the farther from the camera. Next year she’ll be almost out of shot, a tiny prick on the screen.”

          “I think you mean dot,” Maura corrected.

          “Yeah, that’ll be what I meant.”


	5. The Home Visit

“Hey, Ma,” Frankie and Jane said as the entered the living room.  


Angela was busy decorating the Christmas tree.  


“Ma, we need some information on Make Mine a Millionaire.”  


“Okay, what do you want to know? Frankie, pass me the tinsel please.”  


“We need to know if you remember any fights Jacki Truelove had with any people, millionaires or contestants.”  


Angela shrugged and giggled. “Jane, she has just about insulted everyone on the show at one time or another. Where do I begin?”  


“Damn it,” Frankie cursed.  


“Okay, Ma, we’ll see you later,” Jane headed to the door.  


“Although there one very fierce fight she had a year or so with a very nice young man. He was a photographer, nice guy but very insecure and she was horrible to him. She called him so many names and said he didn’t have it. I wasn’t sure what she meant but she kept telling him he didn’t have it. I thought maybe he’d forgotten to bring it from home.”  


“I think she meant he didn’t have sex appeal, Ma,” Jane explained.  


“Well maybe he didn’t to her but I am sure someone would think he was sexy.”  


“Do you remember his name?” Frankie asked.  


“No, but it should be easy to research if you look on the Youtube.”  


“The Youtube?” Frankie repeated.  


Jane pulled him towards the door and shook her head. “Don’t mock the internet afflicted, it’s not big and it’s not clever.”  


Frankie grinned. “You one of them?”  


“Totally, I just about know how to get to my emails,” Jane smirked.  


“Oh wait,” Angela said climbing down from her tree which she had just shoved a fairy atop.  


“Thank god that fairy isn’t alive or it’d be screaming and clutching it ass,” Frankie joked.  


He got a frown from Angela. “I think I still have a copy of it on a video. I hope my video machine still works.”  


“You need a DVD player,” Frankie suggested. “Video tapes, really Ma, they went out with the ark.”  


“I can’t afford a DDV player and if I could I wouldn’t know how to work it.”  


Frankie was about to say something but Jane stopped him; they could be there for hours.  


They sat patiently waiting for Angela to find the appropriate tape. There was lots of noise as she rummaged around the tape box.

“I think this is it,” she handed the tape to Frankie who shoved it into the video slot.

They watched as white lines stretched across the television screen. It suddenly cut to Jacki smiling and looking very happy and excited. They watched the inane questioning process for half an hour until Angela jumped up.

“No, that’s not the one.”

Jane sighed deeply.

“Wait, I know it’s this one,” she shoved another video into the player. 

They watched for fifteen minutes before it flicked to a cookery programme.

“That’s it,” Jane stood up, exasperated. “I’ve just wasted hours of my life that I’ll never get back looking at that ridiculous woman and a cookery programme showing you how to plate lettuce.”

“No, Jane wait, I think I have it this time,” Angela said as she took the old one out and put the new one in. 

It started with the end of the film _The Vikings __._

Jane looked sideways at Angela. “Really?”

Angela smiled meekly. “I like the music.”

“Or Tony Curtis or maybe Kirk Douglas?” Frankie smirked.

“Ernest Borgnine,” she said as Frankie looked surprised. “He was so rugged and decisive and had strong hands.”

“He wasn’t great looking though,” Frankie said. “He had a face for Halloween.”

Angela got angry. “Looks aren’t everything Frankie. Look at your father,” she said sadly. “It’s just as important, and sometimes more important, to find someone with a good heart and a nice temperament. Some people are really good-looking but have ugly, vicious souls.”

“Wow, that was very profound, Ma,” Jane said. 

“Yeah, so don’t be unkind to Jacki. She tries her best to help lonely people find love. Just because they have money doesn’t mean they don’t need love.”

Jane smiled and gave her mother a hug.

“And if they can’t find love they can at least get some physical relief.”

“Ma.” Frankie said, shocked.

“Frankie, sex is a normal human function,” Angela said calmly. “How do you think you got here? Do you think the Gondola brought you?”

“Yeah,” Jane grinned. “The stork was on holiday.”

Jacki’s show began half way through. They were at the ‘mingle and meet’ session. It was full of handsome men and beautiful women and one or two average-looking humans. It was a typical LA scene with narcissistic people who looked like they’d rather go out with their own reflection.

There were two millionaires on show. One was an overweight young women and the second was a self-centered man who was behaving and dressing like a twenty year old when he was clearly closer to sixty.

“Make mine a millionaire!” Jackie was shouting at the contestants. 

It cut to Jacki asking the millionaires in turn who they wanted for their intimate date.

“So, Peter who do you want for your date?”

“I like the little blonde over there.”

Jacki shook her head and yelled. “She was a test Peter, a test you failed. Don’t be a shallow ass! I told you to pick someone age appropriate. She was fucking stardust when you were thirty! You’re old enough to be her fucking great grandfather. Pick someone closer to your own age, someone like Edith over there. Go to the corner and think about it.”

Jacki turned to the overweight young woman and asked her who she had selected for the intimate date. 

“I want the one that looks like Jake Gyllenhaal,” she said flirtatiously.

Jacki was exasperated. “You can’t have him he won’t like you. Women like you don’t get men like him!” She clapped her hands to make a point. “You are surface and superficial. He won’t want you; get real.”

“So why bother making me choose?” she asked, sipping her sixth gin and tonic through a straw.

“Because he was a test to see if you’ve toned down your expectations. Look at you, you like My Little Pony. Who would date a woman who would rather fuck a pony?”  


The inebriated woman giggled. “I’m a collector. I am going to have a My Little Pony house built next to Disney Land.”

“Yeah, that’s about right, fucking fantasyland,” Jackie was scathing. “Choose someone appropriate, like that guy over there,” she pointed to a chubby short man in an ill-fitting suit. “Get real. Successful in life doesn’t do crazy with money.”

“I don’t want him,” the millionaire was adamant.

“Well, the Jake-look-a-like don’t want you.”

Jacki waved over the chubby guy. “Name?”

“Bill Cumberbatch,” he said. 

“What do you do Bill?”

“I’m a photographer,” he said.

“Meet Rainbow Brite,” Jacki pointed to the plump millionaire. They shook hands.

“I don’t want him,” she said to Jacki.

Jacki looked very annoyed. “Why am I here if no one will take my advice?” She turned to the man for support. “Bill I am trying to make her see that she has to lower her sights. She can’t have a stud muffin when she looks like this,” she gestured to the rainbow colored dress that the millionaire was wearing. 

“So she can have me?” Bill was getting irritated. 

“Sure, what’s up with that?”

“It’s very insulting to both of us,” he said.

“It’s realistic.”

Jacki insisted. “Can you imagine her with Jake Gyllenhaal?”

“No, because he’s a film star.”

“That’s right and she isn’t and neither are you, so it’s a perfect match. You’re a donut and she’s a donut with sprinkles on top. Fit and healthy doesn’t date batshit crazy with extra cream.”

“Don’t be so goddamn insulting,” Bill said, angrily.

“Tough love, Bill”, Jacki said matter-of-fact.  


There followed a great deal of shouting where it was difficult to say who won with the insults.

Bill turned on his heels and Jackie shouted after him; “If you were the only photographer left in the world I’d draw a friggin picture. Get the fuck out of here, both of you.” She turned to her minion. “Ban My Little Pony from the club. She’s got a fucking horse shoe loose.”

Bill was puce with rage when he left. My millionaire little pony left sucking her gin and tonic through a straw.

“Thanks Ma,” Jane said. “Can we borrow this and check out My Little Pony and Bill Cumberbatch?” 

“So long as I get it back. I don’t want to lose _The Vikings_ film.”


	6. Choosing a Date

Okay people,” Jacki got their attention. “This is the mix and mingle part. I want you to be as sexy and sassy as you can. You all look stunning in your Victorian dresses. You,” she said to a young dark-haired girl. “The Victorians didn’t chew gum.”

          They shuffled into their places each with a drink in hand.

          “Are you ready to _Make Mine a Millionaire_?” she was whipping them into a frenzy. “Tonight I feel we have the right chemistry for matchmaking. Are you ready?”

          “Yes,” they all shouted.

          Maura yelled with the rest of them while Jane stood in the shadows behind Jacki and her minions trying to be discreet but alert.

          “Millionaires, mingle,” she yelled at the two millionaires and shoved them into the fray.

          One was a man and the second one was Finn de siècle. Finn was tall and debonair. Her hair was dark and, as Jacki had said, she was intense and handsome. Jane was instantly jealous and wanted to grab Maura and flee.

          “Tom, take some photographs, do your job,” Jacki preened as Tom started clicking. One he had enough of Jacki he took photographs of the millionaires and the flirtatious women.

          Finn was wearing a gentleman’s attire befitting a butch of the Victorian period. She grabbed a drink and mingled with her ladies.

          Jane was considering going in there and pretending to see an attacker and inadvertently jumping on Finn and accidentally breaking her wallet. She noticed Maura was too interested in Finn for it to be polite behaviour.

          Jane casually moved around the room until she was directly behind Maura.

          Finn swaggered past a few women and made a beeline for Maura.

            “Hi there, pretty lady,” she said reaching for Maura’s hand and kissed it. “What’s your name?”

          “Mary,” Maura said thinking that she might as well stick to a name given to her by Jacki.

          “What do you do Mary?” Finn said as she talked to Maura’s raised and squeezed cleavage.

          “We are a doctor.”

          Finn looked up at Maura’s face. “Sorry, it’s just that you have an exquisite breasts.”

          Jane tried to distract herself from the conversation by scanning the room; that was her job.

          She could see no one who looked remotely like they were going to attack anyone. In fact the only person who seemed to be in attack mode was Jane herself.

          Finn was finally encouraged to talk to the other women waiting.

          Jane sauntered up to Maura. “You don’t have to drool over her.”

            Maura giggled. “I’m not drooling, I’m being attentive. You should try it sometime, you might like it.”

          “Attentive, when am I not attentive?”

          “You’re inattentive every day,” Maura said and calmly and downed her fifth glass of wine.

          Jane walked off.

          “See what I mean?” Maura huffed. A young woman smiled at her. “Women! She’s a goddamn Cavalier douche bag.”

          Jane stopped dead in her tracks and walked back up to Maura who looked a little alarmed. “What?”

          “I was trying to emulate Jacki to get your undivided attention.”

          “You just called me a douche bag,” Jane said angrily.

          Maura nodded. “I have no idea what it means but it sounds insulting. Is it like an unwieldy handbag?”

          “Dear god, no it isn’t,” Jane frowned. “And Cavalier, really?”

          Maura giggled. “Well you do have a certain Charles II look about you sometimes. He was an English monarch until 1685. He had long dark curly hair. It’s a most attractive hairstyle on a woman; all those ringlets. It’s where the name for the King Charles spaniel comes from.”

          “Maura, are you drunk?”

          “Totally. I’ve been waiting all night for you to tell me I look beautiful and gorgeous. I’d even settle for you telling me I have dribbled cheese dip between my breasts, but nothing. I had to wait for Finn to tell me.” She wobbled off in the direction of Finn.

          “Where are you going pretty lady?” A man in an ill-fitting toupee stood between Jane and Maura. This was the straight millionaire that Jane was supposed to be keeping an eye on during the next session. It seems they had brought his introduction forward. He had been talking to a leggy blonde.

          Jane looked at him as one would a bad birthday present. The gynaecologist was borderline Ernest Borgnine but without the redeeming personality.

          He went on to bore her about his business, his money and his celebrity clients and their vaginas. He switched to boring her with his expectations of her if she was lucky enough to be selected for the intimate date.

          “Well,” he said grabbing another drink off a passing waiter’s tray. “That’s enough talking about me, let’s talk about you. What do you think of me?”

          “What’s the word I’m looking for, ah yes, conceited,” Jane side-stepped him.

          “Pretentious, moi?”

          Jane sighed. “Yeah, that’s an old joke, about as old as you but not as old as the hairpiece.”

          Jane stepped out into the corridor get some air. The millionaire followed her.

          He was annoyed. “I won’t stand for this!”

          “Well find a chair,” she retorted.

          He was shocked. “It’s quite refreshing what you just did,” he said and calmed down. “Women don’t usually talk to me that way.” He looked at her seductively. “Let’s make up. Give me a kiss.”

          “Give me a twenty.”

          At that moment a man wearing dark glasses and a baseball hat dashed at them. Jane grabbed the millionaire and pushed him out of the way. They got tangled up and the person slashed Jane’s arm before fleeing down the corridor. She sat on the floor and looked at her arm. The blade had missed cutting her but her new jacket and shirt were ruined.

            She watched as the little cockney woman gave chase.

          Jacki came out. “My god, are you all right?” She ran straight to the gynaecologist.

          “Yes, I think I’ll live, thanks for asking,” said Jane.

          Maura came out. “Jane!” she dashed up to her and looked over her arm. “Are you hurt?”

            “Of course I’m hurt, you went running off to Finn.”

          The little cockney woman was coming back up the corridor.

          “He was too fast for me,” she said panting.

          “Get the police!” the millionaire said.

          “No,” Jacki was insistent as she glanced at Jane and Maura. “I will get my private security firm to deal with it.”

          “Another note,” Dick said, waving it about.

          “Put it away,” Jacki said through clenched teeth. “Sorry about all this. Why don’t you go back in? I’m sure the girls are longing for your wonderful smile and warm touch,” Jacki shoved the millionaire back towards the mingling room.

            “Where was it?” Jane asked.

          “Pinned to the Jacki’s changing room door.”

          Jane read it aloud: “‘Ho ho ho, die of shame bitch.’” _Santa_ , thought Jane, _would not approve of the sentiment._

“Another death threat,” Maura said, thinking aloud.

          “Yes, only this one seems to hint at death by humiliation.”


	7. Clueless

“We’ve managed to trace the guy on your mom’s video,” Korsak said.

          “Yeah, what we got?” Jane asked.

          Frankie beat Korsak to the punch line. “We got nothing. He married last year and moved to New Zealand with his kiwi wife.”

          “Anything on Jacki’s assistants?” Korsak asked.

          “Not yet,” Frankie admitted. “It’s odd I can’t seem to find anything. They all seem to be off official radars.”

          “We’ll keep checking,” Jane said. “Damn, I was real hopeful it would be Bill Cumberbatch.” Jane shook her head in disappointment. “What about the CCTV footage, did we get anything?”

          “Maura said she’d like to see you about that,” Korsak said.

          Jane heading down to the autopsy area. “Yeah?” She was a little miffed that Finn had chosen Maura for her intimate date.

          “My assistant, Criminalist Susie Chang has created a mock copy of the changing rooms and corridor.”

          There was height and width markers along the corridor.

          “We have calculated that the perpetrator was six foot three inches tall. And, from the size of the skeletal frame I would say male.”

          “Is that a guess?” Jane seemed stunned.

          “An educated one, yes.”

          “Are you unwell? Did Santa drop a sack on your head?”

          Maura scowled. “I have just decided to be a little bit more flexible. Finn suggested it helps with the flow of thoughts; spontaneity is good for the mind.”

          Jane frowned. “Oh yeah! What will she suggest after an intimate dinner? Will she suggest an intimate encounter is good for the body?”

          “Why are you so jealous? You know I only have eyes for you. It’s just nice when a woman finds me attractive.”

          “I find you attractive,” Jane whined, “isn’t that enough?”

            Maura grinned. “Being attractive to others is its own aphrodisiac.”

          “Well drink a mug of bromide and get over yourself.”

          Jane realised they were having their first lovers’ falling-out and it was horrible.


	8. Who Dunnit?

Maura was in the changing room with the other girls and guys. She was getting ready for her date with Finn.

          Jane was out scouting the corridors and studio looking for tall men.

          Tom was eating a sandwich and reading a magazine. Maura smiled. “It’s always nice to see someone reading a quality magazine.”

          He looked up. “Yeah, I wanted to be a doctor.”

          “Really?”

          “Yes, but my parents were big on my becoming a pig farmer as they owned a pig farm. I loved pigs at first but then I moved on to women,” he laughed heartily. “I love taking pictures of them. I was a photographer for a while.”

          Jacki came in and clapped her hands together. “Okay, those of you on the intimate dinner date, places please.”

          “Tom, do you think you could do my necklace up for me?” Maura asked.

          Tom stood up and did as she asked.

          “Thank you, Tom,” she looked up at his handsome face. “You’re tall aren’t you?”

          “Six-three, but that’s my height,” he laughed.       

          “Enough of the penis jokes,” Jacki said, irritated.

          Tom left the room.

          Inside the studio the millionaires were awaiting for their dates. Maura walked in and looked around for Jane. She was nowhere to be seen. Nor was Tom anywhere to be seen.

          “Where’s Jane,” Maura asked Jacki.

          “How the hell should I know?”

          Maura looked around. “Where’s Tom?”

          Jacki looked around. “Where is that asshole? Jeremy where is Tom?”

          Jeremey looked around. “Where indeed?”

          “How long have you known Tom?” Maura asked.

          “About three weeks. He took over when one of my guys didn’t bother turning up for work.”

          “I think he may be the letter sender.” Maura suggested.

          “You’re fucking kidding me?”

          “You’ll have to find a replacement for Finn. I need to find Jane.”

          Maura ran down the hallway opening and closing the doors. Jeremy joined her.

          “I’m a police detective,” he said in a particularly English accent. “We’ve been after Terrible Tom for a year. Heard he’d fled to America so we’ve followed.”

          They heard muffled noises coming from one of the rooms.

          Jeremy pulled a revolver and flung open the door.

          They saw Jane sitting in a chair and Tom with a knife at her throat.

          “Come near me and I’ll slit the pig’s throat.” He grabbed Jane and forced her to her feet. “We’re going to walk out of here and you’re not going to stop us.”

          They stepped aside as he walked past them into the corridor.

          As he headed to the exit Jacki stood in his way. “What kind of bullshit is this? I don’t think so. Nobody ruins my show, ever.”

          “Get out of the way bitch.”

          “You’re not going anywhere, we’ve been expecting you,” Jacki said.

          At that moment the little cockney woman pushed past Jacki. She looked at the scene and gave a disinterested shrug.

          “Don’t mind me, luv, you carry on. I heard America was a violent place,” she said as she went to move past the confused Tom. As she did she hit his arm, hard, with a baton which had been carefully concealed inside her shawl. He dropped the knife and Jane moved away from him. Maura grabbed her and hugged her.

          Tom shoved the cockney woman over and ran towards the exit. Jeremy gave chase but he was too quick. Just as they thought he was about to escape an overweight young man appeared and blocked the door. He punched Tom hard in the face and the would-be assassin fell to the floor, unconscious.

          Sharon dashed down the corridor and into the arms of the overweight young man. “Sam, are you okay?” She kissed and hugged him. “My hero.” She turned to Jacki. “I don’t care if he’s fat or thin; I don’t care if he’s got long hair or short hair, I don’t care if he’s rich or poor. I love him, the person. We love each other with our minds, our bodies, our souls. So stop calling him names. In fact, stop calling everyone names it makes you look like a vicious bitch.”

          Jacki looked a little shocked. “Okay, I will.” She turned to Sam. “I apologise, Sam and thanks for saving the show.”

          “He’s out of work at the moment,” Sharon said as she stared at Jacki.

          “Sure, you’re our hero. You got a job. Not sure where but we’ll find you something. Maybe as the scenery? No, get a grip,” Jacki reprimanded herself. “Be nice. New mantra.”

           “Thanks, I could use the work,” Sam said and gave Sharon a peck on the cheek.

          “Hey, get a room,” Jacki was going to have to do some work on herself.

          Tom began to come round. Jeremy handcuffed him and shackled his legs.

          “Well done, officers,” Jacki said smiling.       

          “What?” Jane said looking from Jacki to the Cockney sparrow.

          “Sorry ladies,” the Cockney sparrow said. “We’ve been after this murderer for a year. He sliced up two police officer in London.”

          “Bloody peelers,” Tom complained.

          “Peelers? I don’t get it,” Jane said.

          “Peeler is an old British word for police officer,” Maura explained.

          Cockney sparrow nodded. “He only goes after female police officers. He sets the scene by focussing on someone else; suggesting that they are in danger.  Soon after that the police are called and go to work undercover. Then he focuses on his real target, policewomen.” She looked at him. “Terrible Tom the tormentor of Trafalgar Square, Tooting and Tottenham.”

          “You mean we were bait?” Jane asked in a voice of disgust.

          “Afraid so,” Jeremey nodded.

          Maura looked from one to the other. “Who are you?”

          “I am Detective Walpole of New Scotland Yard,” the little woman said. “And this is Fezziwig of the Yard. “We’re police detectives sent from the Criminal Investigations Department to apprehend this criminal. We never go home empty-handed.”

          Jeremy nodded. “Thank you for your service is apprehending this good-looking monster.”

          “We could have been killed,” Maura complained.

          “You were never in danger, Madam,” Jeremy assured her. “We were watching you every step of the way. Walpole and Fezziwig always get their man.”

          Jane rubbed her throat. “A knife at my throat doesn’t seem to be every step of the way.”

          Walpole picked up the knife and stuck it into her hand, it retracted. “Blunt. An excellent fake and harmless. We swopped it earlier.”

          “You knew?” Jane said to Jacki.

          “Of course, but I had to play my part. Damn good too. I might try to get into acting. Wow, reality show, sexy sauces and now acting. Who knew I was so fucking talented.”

          “Yeah, who knew?” Jane quipped.

          “I’m taking Jane home,” Maura said angrily. “She’s had a terrible shock.”

          Jacki waved her hand dismissively. “Sure, go. Finn has gone off with another lesbian.”

          “Good, I suddenly feel better.” Jane smiled.


	9. Loose Ends

Maura draped herself over Jane’s naked body. She kissed her breasts. “You have perfect breasts. Don’t ever have them enlarged.”

          “Yeah, well according to Jacki I’d have trouble getting them reduced,” she grinned and stroked Maura’s back.

          “Have you had enough orgasms?” Maura asked. “Just in case you haven’t Jacki sent this as a thank you.” Maura held up a large pink vibrator.

          Jane laughed. “I like your natural technique better.”

          “Right answer.” She rolled over and straightened up the red silk sheet. She handed Jane a glass of champagne and switched on the bedside lamp. It was red and fringed with tassels. “Well, you wanted to be in the land of nod, but I think the land of nubs is much better. So what do you think of the place?”

          “I think it was very good of Finn to send over her men to transform your bedroom at such short notice. She must like you if she did it for free.” Jane looked around at her ornate surroundings. “It’s very crimson and I love all the mirrors. Yes, I can confirm it’s Victorian Bordello style. They got the temple of Love theme really well and even added the choking perfume; it works. You’re up there with the rich and famous now. What’s the land of nubs?”

          “Nubs is a Victorian word for clitoris or nipple. You’re in my world now, detective.”

          “And it’s so much better than the land of nod.”

          “Well, I know how much you like Victorian Britain so I thought it would be great present for you, along with the expensive Christmas watch.” Maura sipped her champagne. “Your mother was very happy with the DVD player and the Ernest Borgnine box set you and Frankie got her.”

          “Yep. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” Jane sipped her champagne. “Thank god she decided not to go on _Make Mine A Millionaire._ I’d be forced to send threatening letters cut from the magazine _Vibrators for Connoisseurs_.”

          “I don’t think I’ve heard of that magazine. It is bi-monthly or quarterly?”

          “I love you,” Jane leaned forward and kissed Maura on the lips. “You have a charming naiveté.” She pulled away and looked deeply into Maura’s eyes. “Thank you for the watch, it is lovely. Now I can tell when it’s Christmas past, present or future.” She kissed her again. She smiled. “I’ll tell you what I really think, Maura. I think this room was your fantasy, which is valid. I know nothing about Victorian Britain, although I do now know about Charles II’s hair-do.”

          “I love you, too.” Maura said in a very sure voice. “Yes, the room was my fantasy, I hope you approve or at least accept it. Sorry about that the Charles II reference,” Maura kissed Jane on the lips before climbing out of bed. She was completely naked.

          “God, I just love your body.”

          Maura smiled. “Well, if you want to play with it in the sunshine we need to get showered and dressed and get to the airport.”

          “What?”

          “My Christmas present to me was you in this luxurious, but clean, fake brothel. You’re real Christmas present from me to you is to spend New Year’s Day in Hawaii. That’s where we’ll be over New Year so hurry up or we’ll miss the plane.”

          Jane got out of bed and walked up to Maura.

          Maura eyes lingered on Jane’s nakedness. “You have a great body, too and I’m looking forward to exploring it again.”

          Jane brushed her hand against Maura’s cheek. “We don’t need a matchmaker, we’re already a perfect match.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks very much for reading this, and for all the kudos and comments. Wishing everybody a happy new year; hope the next year is great for you all.


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